


Whisky Chaser

by basaltgrrl



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-27
Updated: 2010-11-27
Packaged: 2017-10-15 10:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/159788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basaltgrrl/pseuds/basaltgrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a little plaything inspired by awabubbles' awesome drawing by the same title, here - http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/2008540.html.  Loads of innuendo (at least as much as you can get in 443 words) and a little misunderstanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whisky Chaser

  
  
  
  
**Entry tags:**   
|   
[character: chris](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/character%3A%20chris), [character: gene](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/character%3A%20gene), [character: nameless ones](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/character%3A%20nameless%20ones), [character: sam](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/character%3A%20sam), [fic](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/fic), [fic type: slash](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/fic%20type%3A%20slash), [genre: fluff](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/genre%3A%20fluff), [pairing: sam/gene](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/pairing%3A%20sam%2Fgene), [pairing: vince/geoff](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/pairing%3A%20vince%2Fgeoff), [rating: green cortina](http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/tag/rating%3A%20green%20cortina)  
  
---|---  
  
_**Fic: Whisky Chaser, basaltgrrl, Sam/Gene, Vince/Geoff, green/blue cortina?**_  
Title: Whisky Chaser  
Rating: green/blue?  
Word Count: 443  
Pairings: Sam/gene and vince/geoff  
Summary: just a little plaything inspired by awabubbles' awesome drawing by the same title, here - http://community.livejournal.com/lifein1973/2008540.html.  Loads of innuendo (at least as much as you can get in 443 words) and a little misunderstanding.

  


 

Whisky Chaser

 

“I need a slash,” Gene announced to the table in general.  He threw down his cards, downed the last swallow of whisky in his glass.  “Someone get me another before I get back!”

Chris examined his own cards, took a pull at his pint.  Exchanged a quick glance with Ray and waited for the inevitable.  Two minutes to the second, and Sam was pushing his chair back.

“Be right back,” he told them, almost apologetically.  Chris nodded.  Ray grimaced.  Vince and Geoff exchanged looks.  Sam hurried off toward the loo.

Vince slipped from his seat.  “I gotta go get some money from my jacket.  S’out in the car.”

“Hold on,” Geoff murmured.  “I think I left my fags in there.  I’m comin’ with ya.”

Ray snorted, tossed back the rest of his bitter.  Watched the two with a jaundiced eye as they made their way to the back entrance of the Railway Arms and disappeared into the night.  Chris mused over his own beer.

“Ray,” he said after a short, brooding silence.  “Ray…”

“What???”

“Do you reckon…?”

“Yes.”  Angry and terse.  “I do.”

They sat in silence, ever more uncomfortable as the minutes dragged by and the other four did not return.  Ray lit a fag with quick, angry movements and took a deep drag from it.  Chris looked at the four whisky glasses, empty, at the other places on the table.  Swallowed, cast a glance at Nelson behind the bar.  Watched Ray, the way he stared at the telly, eyes so intent.  The cords standing out in his neck.  The pulse just below his jaw.  The broad maleness of his hand holding the cigarette.

“Ray.”  He swallowed nervously.

“Yeah, all right, all right!”  Ray stood up.  Stamped over to the bar.  “Nelson!  Give me four whiskies!  Yes, on my fucking tab!”

He returned, balancing the four drinks precariously, and tossed them to the table.

“Those wankers think they can get free drinks just by disappearing for a while.  Just see how quickly they come when the whisky’s on me!” he snarled.

Chris looked down at his own sweating hands clenched on his pint glass.  Thanked the gods that he hadn’t been more explicit.  Wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like.  Tried not to think about it any more.

A moment later his knee was jostled as Gene slid into his seat.  He reeked of cigarette smoke, of soap, of something muskier.

“Cheers,” he grunted, picking up his whisky and downing half of it in a gulp.  “Nothing like a whisky chaser!”

But chasing what, Chris wondered, and vowed to not ever bring it up ever again.


End file.
